I’m not sure where I was; it may have been a small, quiet social gathering. There was some odd business about throwing a bottle or glass of wine into the air. If it landed one way, one thing would happen or be true; if it landed the other way, another thing would happen or be true. I didn’t understand the two ways a bottle or glass could land.
I struggled with the how and why of this decision-making technique and didn’t know what was being decided. What was going on?
I found myself in a dark, cave-like setting, lying under a man I sensed to be a vampire or a demon. I could see observers and felt rather than heard them ask me to make a choice between staying with the vampire-demon and coming with them. I was reluctant to go, but horrified that I might have sold my soul to dark powers. I said something wonderfully poetic to them that amazed me with its beauty and poignancy. I think I chose to stay.
It was such a real and powerful feeling that I knew even in my sleep that I didn’t want to write about it when I woke up. My fear of those dark powers was that great.
I was at a concert on Hilton Head Island, where the entire audience was covered by a sheet of white plastic so that they couldn’t see anything. This was intentional. The featured performer was Ricky Skaggs, whose name I know and whose face and music I don’t. I stuck my head out from under the plastic to sneak a look and saw that he was in white face, almost like a clown. The longer I looked, the more he resembled a clown. Perhaps that was the reason for the plastic cover–to protect his image or the audience from it.
Meanwhile, I was still disturbed by thoughts of and desire for the vampire-demon.
I overslept, hoping to see the demon lover again.